


The Local Weirdos

by Felgia_Starr



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - The Breakfast Club Fusion, Breakfast Club References, F/M, One Shot, Underage Drinking, just a bunch of sad teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 10:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17221853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felgia_Starr/pseuds/Felgia_Starr
Summary: Malcolm Wheeler-Nicholson Academy is an elite, private school for extraordinary students with extraordinary money. It is supposed to be home for the prim and proper and wealthy, but this 15th of September 2018, five students are welcomed with open, thorned arms for their gruelling eight hours of detention. Based on The Breakfast Club. Rated M for underage drinking.





	The Local Weirdos

Malcolm Wheeler-Nicholson Academy is an elite, private school for extraordinary students with extraordinary money. It is supposed to be home for the prim and proper and wealthy, and it rarely hosts Saturday detentions—weekend punishments are reserved for the worst of the worst—but this 15th of September 2018, five students are welcomed with open, thorned arms for their gruelling eight hours of detention, beginning at 8 o’clock in the morning and ending at 4 in the afternoon.    
  
The first car—a black limousine with tinted windows—rolls up the gates of MWN Academy. Its driver is a tall, heavy-set man wearing sunglasses and a Bluetooth earpiece, a scowling teenager sitting beside him. The teenager is a handsome young man with dark hair and charming blue eyes. He has a hooked nose and a square jaw. He wears expensive, branded clothes to hide his insecurities.   
  
“You can go now, Mr. Grayson,” the driver says, his tone empty and his voice robotic.   
  
The scowling teenager, Richard Grayson, glares some more, crossing his arms over his expensive jacket. “Not until you tell me where Bruce is.”   
  
The driver answers him differently, “Mr. Wayne will not be able to pick you up and drive you home this afternoon. He told me to give you 500 dollars instead.”   
  
The driver tosses the sack of money over to him with little-to-no care. Richard smirks and clutches the bag closer to his body as he leaves the car.   
  
The second car drives in after the limo leaves. Inside is a stern man with a lot of things to say to the green-haired teenager sitting in the back seat. The teenager has once stated that he dyed his messy hair green to upset his foster father. He has a black earring on his left ear. He wears a rolled-up, buttoned-down, blue polo shirt and a smile to scare off his issues.   
  
“God, you are so dense sometimes,” the stern man begins. “It’s your final year—your senior year—and this is when you choose to screw up? Have you no care for your future, Garfield? What if they don’t allow you to graduate because of this?”   
  
Garfield Logan rolls his eyes, muttering, “I doubt it, Steve.”   
  
“What if you can’t go to a proper college because of this?” the older man continues to rant. “What if you end up in McDonald's in ten years, in the drive-through window, selling burgers to stupid kids like you?”   
  
Gar chuckles. “Then I’ll give them extra sauce.”   
  
Steve fixes him an icy glare. “You better start acting right, Garfield. Do you have your books with you? You better have brought your damn books with you!”   
  
“I don’t really think we’re supposed to study—”   
  
“And when have you done things you were  _ supposed  _ to?”   
  
Gar sighs, wears his heavy backpack filled with textbooks, and leaves, slamming the door shut behind him.   
  
The third car is a black Benz being driven by a doctor in uniform, his son a passenger. The black, muscled boy wears formal clothing. His lips thick, his eyes doe-like, and his nose impeccable, Victor Stone is quite the looker. He loves football more than he loves himself, and that fact sometimes pushes him over the edge.   
  
“I hope you know that your mother would be ashamed of you if she were here right now,” Doctor Stone states, refusing to look at his son. “You shouldn’t have joined the football team if you—”   
  
“Can I go now?” his son, Victor Stone, interrupts.   
  
“You have no future in sports, Vic,” Doctor Stone proceeds with a sigh. “What are you going to do for the rest of your life? Tackle men and get head injuries? For Christ’s sake, Victor, you should’ve gone to Murakami High like I told your mother.”   
  
“I’m going,” Vic announces as he opens the car door and steps out.   
  
After the doctor leaves, a large white van arrives on the scene. The man who drives it is gripping the wheel too tight as the woman in the passenger seat continues to scream at him.   
  
“I don’t even know why you bothered to come here,” the man who’s gripping the wheel, most commonly known by the locals as Trigon, snarls at his wife.   
  
“You fucking  _ told  _ me to come, idiot!” his wife, Arella, bites back.    
  
“But I didn’t  _ fucking  _ tell you to keep yapping your mouth now, did I?”    
  
“You’re the one who keeps shouting!”   
  
“I can’t exactly whisper with your constant shrilling, you stupid bitch!!”   
  
They are so consumed in their colorful argument that they don’t even notice their daughter, Rachel, leaving the car without so much a goodbye. Rachel is a thin, pale girl with short black hair and raven eyes. She wears an oversized, black t-shirt underneath her oversized, black hoodie. She tends to get ignored a lot, and she likes it that way.   
  
Behind Rachel is Kory Anders, a redheaded girl with dark skin and the brightest of green eyes, wearing a bright purple skirt and a matching top. She is simply gorgeous. She walks confidently, her height and strides comparable to that of a supermodel, but she has an apprehensive smile as she looks at the school that towers over her.

**. . .**

“Well, well, well, the  _ cool kids _ are here,” the principal, Slade Wilson, taunts with a sneer, “and you’re all here on time. Shocking, but congratulations nonetheless.”   
  
Kory Anders glances around the library, seeing the kind of students she’s with. She raises her hand before she speaks up, “Mr. Wilson, I do not think this is where I am supposed to have my detention.”   
  
The principal ignores her and continues talking, “For the next eight hours, all of you are going to sit here quietly and without movement. You are going to think of why you’re here and what you did to deserve being here. You will write an essay, describing to me who you think you are.”   
  
Slade Wilson hands out pieces of papers and sharpened pencils. He notices Richard Grayson sitting nonchalantly in the back and says, “And when I say essay, I mean essay—not your signature on top and a wad of money on the paper. Is that clear, Mr. Grayson?”   
  
Richard rolls his eyes and nods in response.   
  
The principal forces a smile. “Good. Maybe you'll learn a little something about yourself.  Maybe you'll even decide whether or not you care to return.”   
  
Victor Stone snorts in the front. “I can answer that right now, sir. And it’s a no—not just for me but for every—”   
  
“Thank you for the wonderful speech, Mr. Stone, but that will be enough,” Wilson cuts off sarcastically, a hand raised to stop him.   
  
“Welcome,” Victor says, shrugging and crossing his arms.   
  
“My office—” Wilson points behind him, “—is right across that hall. Any monkey business is ill-advised and will automatically land you in another detention next week. Any questions?”   
  
“How ‘bout ape business, sir?” Garfield Logan speaks up, chuckling.    
  
Rachel Roth who sits behind his desk groans and rubs her fingers over her temple.    
  
“Very funny,” the principal mocks, a sneer forming at his mouth. “I’ll give you the answer to that question, Logan, next Saturday in another detention.”   
  
The grin drops off Garfield’s mouth, and he glares at the principal’s back as he walks away to his office.    
  
“How many words has Mr. Wilson required for the writing of the essay?” Kory voices an inquiry, but no one cares enough to answer her, each of them minding their own business and papers.   
  
“Who do I think I am?” Garfield mumbles to himself. “Who can I be? Who am I? Who am I?”   
  
He catches a glimpse of the pet store brochure he’s brought with him to school, and he laughs, “I am a pet.”   
  
Garfield imitates a dog barking sound, catching the attention of everyone.    
  
Kory almost looks amused, Richard has a look of utter confusion on his face, Victor is disgusted, and Rachel looks the way she always looks—with sad eyes, sad lips, and a sad face.   
  
Rachel ‘drops’ her pen somewhere near Garfield’s seat and drawls, “Fetch, doggy.”   
  
Gar glares at her in response.    
  
“I cannot believe that this is happening!” Kory exclaims suddenly from the front, everyone’s attention turning towards her.    
  
“Why?” Richard asks, lips turning down at the sides into a scowl.    
  
Kory stares at him with furrowed brows, but not wanting to be impolite, she answers him, “I am supposed to celebrate  _ blorthog  _ with my friends today, but I am unable to be with them at the moment.”   
  
Richard shrugs. “That’s the price you gotta pay, I guess.”   
  
“Wait,” Victor suddenly speaks up. “What if we need to take a piss?”   
  
Rachel scoffs from across the room.    
  
“Find a bottle or something,” Richard suggests. “Don’t go in front of the girls, man.”   
  
“I don’t have to piss right  _ now _ ,” Victor retorts.   
  
“Then why did you—”   
  
“Just a question,  _ Dick _ ,” Victor cuts off.   
  
Richard starts to stand up menacingly;  Garfield tells both of them to, “Let it go.”   
  
They both ignore him.    
  
“That’s Grayson to you, Stone,” Richard says through clenched teeth.    
  
“Yeah.” Victor snorts. “Ain’t nobody gonna mistake you for a Wayne.”   
  
“Fuck off—”   
  
“Oh! I got a little rich boy mad! What’s he gonna do? Sue me?”   
  
Kory stands up as well, attempting to get in between the two boys. “Please, let us not fight over such a small matter.”   
  
“At least I can  _ afford  _ five lawyers, you fucking peasant—”   
  
“At least I haven’t been to juvie!”   
  
“That’s none of your fucking business!”   
  
“Look, guys, both of you just need to calm down. It’s not that serious—” Gar attempts to interfere.   
  
“You wanna fight me, Grayson?” Victor threatens. “You think you can take me with your golden spoons?”   
  
Kory shakes her head almost frantically. “We will not do any of the fighting—”   
  
“Shut up, all of you!” Rachel screams from behind them, effectively quietening down all of them, even Victor and Richard.   
  
Principal Wilson shouts from his office, “What the hell is going on in there?”   
  
The teenagers stare at each other, retreating back to their seats and dampening the heat down.   
  
“Nothing, sir!” Garfield shouts back his response.    
  
An uncomfortable silence follows after that. Rachel begins her essay with a statement filled with different curses from different languages. Garfield reads the brochure he’s brought with him. Kory thinks of what her friends are currently doing. Victor attempts to ignore Richard, but he is determined to make small talk.   
  
“We should close that door,” Richard starts, referring to the door to the principal’s office. “We can’t have any kind of party with Slade checking on us every other second.”   
  
“You know the door’s supposed to stay open, right?” Victor says, refusing to turn around.    
  
“So?”   
  
“So why don’t you just shut your rich boy mouth? There are four other people in here.”   
  
Richard begins to clap his hands slowly, making Victor turn to him with a glare. “Wow. Didn’t know football players can count.”   
  
“You have no right to judge anybody—especially not me, Grayson,” Victor angrily rebuts. “You know,  _ Dick _ , you don’t even count. You’re nothing. I mean if you just disappeared, not even your daddy will miss you. You’re nothing but money. You might as well not even exist.”   
  
To someone who knows Richard Grayson and his expressions, they might say that he looks upset at Victor’s words, but nobody in the library knows him enough to know that.    
  
Richard refuses to give Victor the satisfaction of letting him know he hurt him though. “Well… I’ll just go and join the football team then.”   
  
Victor loses his furious expression, a laugh bursting out his chest.    
  
Richard glances at Kory and says, “Maybe even the PREP Club! And the Student Council!”   
  
“I am afraid that they will not take you in, Richard,” Kory replies with a kind smile.    
  
“You know why guys like you knock everything?” Victor asks him.   
  
“No.”   
  
“It’s ‘cause y’all are afraid,” Victor explains.    
  
It’s Richard’s turn to laugh out loud. “That’s why I don’t partake in extracurricular activities?”   
  
“You’re just a coward, man,” Victor continues. “Admit it.”   
  
“I’m in the Biology Club,” Gar tries to chime in but gets ignored.   
  
“You’re afraid they won’t take you,” Victor says. “You don’t belong anywhere, so you just destroy everything.”   
  
“You sure it’s not because all of you are assholes?” Dick raises a brow.   
  
“We are not the holes of asses, Richard,” Kory speaks up. “Please, do not judge us when you do not know any of us.”   
  
Richard’s expression softens a tad when he looks at Kory, but it doesn’t disappear completely. “Fuck all of you.”   
  
“I’m in the Life Sciences Club too,” Gar adds.    
  
“Nobody cares about your dumb clubs,” Rachel drones from behind him.   
  
Garfield turns to her. “Who are you, anyway?”   
  
Rachel stares at him, pulling up her hood over her head. “Doesn’t matter.”   
  
“Well, my name’s Garfield Logan,” he says to her with a gentle, friendly smile. He reaches over to her desk, holding his hand out for her to take. “Also known as your future husband.”   
  
Garfield laughs even as Rachel slaps his hand out of the way. Before either of them says anything, they hear Victor shouting, “Shut up!”   
  
They all hear the principal moving about in the hall, and they quickly fix themselves up, pretending to write something on the paper. Slade looks at them suspiciously from the doorway before going back to his office.   
  
“You heard him earlier! No monkey or ape business,” Garfield says once Wilson is out of sight.   
  
Grayson stands up abruptly, stalking towards the door and removing a screw from it.    
  
“What are you doing, Richard?” asks Kory.   
  
“Drop dead, I hope,” mutters Victor.   
  
“Richard?” Kory calls out nervously. “That is not ours. It belongs to the school, and we cannot do any damage to it.”   
  
The door slams shut, the harsh noise deafening.  They all wince at the sound of it, except Richard who runs back to his seat.   
  
“Okay, you’ve had your fun. Now, fix it!” demands Victor.   
  
Out of nowhere, Gar lets out a loud guffaw. “I just thought of something!”   
  
Richard looks confused again. “What?”   
  
“Knock, knock!” he starts, trying to keep his chuckles in.   
  
“Huh?”   
  
“Say ‘who’s there?’” Gar whispers.   
  
“Who’s there?” Richard sits there with his arms crossed, never having been this confused his whole life.    
  
“Doris.”   
  
Victor throws his hands up in the air as he realizes what the joke is about. “Oh, God.”   
  
“Doris who?”   
  
“The library Doris locked! Open up!” Garfield breaks into a fit of laughter once again. Nobody else does.    
  
“God, damn it!” Principal Wilson’s voice curses in the hall. Everyone in the library stiffens up when he opens the door and glares at them. “Why is that door closed?”   
  
No one says anything, not because they fear the principal’s wrath, but because they don’t want another rant and rave from him.    
  
“Why is that door closed?” he repeats, his glare hardening.    
  
“How are we supposed to know?” Victor grumbles. “We’re not supposed to move, remember?”   
  
Slade turns to Kory, his mouth set into a thin line. “Why?”   
  
“I am afraid that I myself do not know, Mr. Wilson,” she answers. “We were all sitting in our proper seats before you had come in, thinking about our essays, sir.”   
  
Wilson’s gaze falls to Grayson. “Who closed that door?”   
  
Richard shrugs. “Maybe a screw fell out or something.”   
  
Garfield agrees, “It just closed, sir.”   
  
The principal then turns his inquiry to Rachel in the back, “Who?”   
  
Rachel stares at him, eyes wide, for a second before turning her head away in an attempt to ignore the principal.   
  
“She doesn’t talk, sir,” Victor claims.   
  
“Grayson!” the principal calls. “Give me the screw.”   
  
Richard raises both his hands up. “I don’t have it.”   
  
“You want me to do a pat-down on you?”    
  
“It’s not like I can’t afford a screw.” Richard scoffs arrogantly. “Why would I want to steal a single screw if I can buy millions?”   
  
“It’s always about money with you, isn’t it, Grayson?” the principal says. “You’re so entitled that you can’t even live up to your own fantasies and expectations.”   
  
A snarl is forming on Richard’s mouth, and he’s about to spit up some words he’ll later regret when Kory speaks up again, “Although, Richard is being correct, Mr. Wilson. Nobody would want to steal a loose screw from the door.”   
  
“Stay out of this, pageant girl!” Wilson shouts, pointing a finger at Kory.   
  
The red-haired girl’s eyes seem to glow in fury, but she doesn’t speak any more.   
  
Principal Wilson goes to open the door and tries to keep it open by blocking its way with a folding chair. He fails hilariously, the door slamming shut and the teenagers chortling.   
  
Wilson comes back in. “The door will remain closed then, but don’t think I won’t be watching you!”   
  
“But how can you watch us with the door closed?” Victor questions.   
  
“Maybe there is a peeping hole in which the principal can spy on us?” Kory helpfully suggests when the principal says nothing.   
  
“Thank you, Ms. Anders.” The principal fakes a sweet smile. Wilson then points an accusatory finger at Richard. “And you, Grayson, you’re not fooling anybody here. You talk back to me one more time, and I’m going to put you in next week’s detention.”   
  
Richard rolls his eyes and mutters, “Fuck off.”   
  
“What was that?”   
  
“Fuck off!” Dick yells.   
  
“You just bought another Saturday, mister!”   
  
Richard fakes a cry. “Oh no!”   
  
“You just bought one more right there,” Slade seethes.    
  
“Well, I have to attend a trial next week, so you can talk to Bruce or my lawyers if you want!”   
  
“You have a trial? Good! You can go back to prison if you don’t want to be here then! Are you done?”   
  
“No.”   
  
“You’d be doing this city a favor if you lock yourself up.”   
  
“So?”   
  
“That’s another one! If you don’t stop right now, I’ll have you doing janitor’s work for the rest of your worthless life! You want another one?”   
  
Richard sneers but nods. “Yes.”   
  
“That’s it! Another one!”   
  
“Dude,” Gar cuts in, looking worried, “you gotta stop.”   
  
Kory nods fervently. “Yes, please, Richard, do the stopping!”    
  
He acknowledges them but ignored their advice.   
  
“Are you done?” Slade has managed to calm himself down, putting his hands in his pockets.    
  
“I can buy your existence without a dent in my pocket,” Richard drawls.   
  
“That’s one more!”   
  
“You’re worth less than a street whore.”   
  
“Another.”   
  
Richard fumes silently; the principal smirks, satisfied. “You done?”   
  
“How many is that?”   
  
“Six,” Rachel pipes up from the back, blushing when everyone turns to look at her.   
  
“Well now it’s eight,” Slade says.   
  
Rachel shrugs, mumbling, “It’s actually still six.”   
  
“Shut up, Avril Lavigne!”   
  
Rachel frowns but ends up shrugging off the insult instead of dwelling on it.   
  
“I got you for two months, Grayson,” Slade hisses, bending over to get closer to Richard’s face.   
  
“Thrilled,” is all that Richard chooses to say.   
  
“Alright, that’s it!” Slade grins unsettlingly. “I’m going to be right outside those doors. If I have to come in here one more time because of one of you spoiled little punks, I’m going to make all of you stay the whole night.”   
  
Wilson leaves with an extra bounce in his step. He seems extremely happy to have put Richard in detention for two months.   
  
“It’s just 9 o’clock,” Vic announces, making everybody groan in despair.   
  
None of them has the energy to have conversations with each other, so once again, everyone tries to mind their own business.    
  
Richard pulls up an iPad from his backpack, injecting a pair of earphones into the jack and playing the loudest music he can find. Victor has Kory’s hair in his fingers, attempting to braid it; Kory is munching on a large sandwich as he does so. Garfield fetches an animal encyclopedia from the shelves, reading it intently. Rachel carves crude and depressing drawings with a knife on her desk.    
  
An hour later, Richard has fallen asleep with his iPad still bright and open. Victor plays paper football. Kory is texting with her friends, greeting them a ‘happy  _ blorthog  _ day’. Garfield has his hand in his crotch, reading from a magazine filled with nude women. Rachel writes her sad poems on a sad, black notebook.   
  
A few moments later, all of them has managed to fall asleep in different uncomfortable positions. Strangely, all of them is dreaming. Dick dreams of the day he moves out of the Wayne Manor. Victor dreams of his dead mother, cheering him on in a game. Kory dreams of going back to her home country, Tamaran. Garfield dreams of some alternate universe where all five of them have superpowers, and they fight crime for a living. Rachel dreams of blood and violence, Fall Out Boy playing in the background.   
  
Slade strides in the room, hands on hips as he stares at the sleeping kids.   
  
“Wake up!” he growls. “Who needs to go to the lavatory?”   
  
He glares when all of the students raise their hands. 

**. . .**

Victor Stone sits on the railing, ripping off pages from a book he got from the shelves and staring blankly at a point on the wall.   
  
“That’s  _ real  _ intelligent,” Rachel monotones. She’s holding a book herself, in a desk right across from the railing, but unlike Victor, she is gentle with reading it. Beside her sits Garfield, clipping his toenails on the desk for some reason.   
  
Victor’s gaze snaps to her. “I know, I know. It’s wrong to destroy literature. Homer’s worldbuilding is iconic.”   
  
“Yes, friend!” Kory enthusiastically concurs, missing his sarcastic tone. She stands behind Victor, trying to find books from her native language. “The Iliad is truly boggling the minds!”   
  
“Oh, Anders.” Grayson sighs, currently sitting on the floor and leaning on a pillar. “Your ignorance is so pure.”   
  
Soon enough, Victor throws the remains of the book on the ground, remembering something as he turns to Kory. “Hey, girlie, you allowed to go out tonight?”   
  
Kory frowns. “I do not know. My _ k’norfka _ has told me that I am not permitted to go outside the premises of our home, but my elder sister has commanded me to do the sitting of the baby for our neighbors in her stead.”   
  
“There’s a party at Karen’s,” Victor tells her. “Parents in the West Coast. It’s sure to be lit.”   
  
Kory’s face lights up but then drops back down. “I do not think I will be able to go.”   
  
“Why?”   
  
“I cannot refuse my sister of anything, I am afraid, and my  _ k’norfka  _ will surely be angry with me.”   
  
“Who are you more afraid of?” Richard chimes in, glancing at both of them.   
  
“Pardon?”   
  
“Which one is scarier—your sister or your kanoffka?”   
  
“ _ K’norfka _ ,” she corrects. “And I believe they both make me immensely apprehensive.”   
  
“If you had to choose,” Dick persists.   
  
“I...do not know,” Kory admits. “My sister is certainly caring in her own sense, and my  _ k’norfka  _ also, but sadly, I think that they are both apathetic when it comes to me. I do believe that they are only attempting to bond with me because if they do not, my parents will not send them the American money. I can say that I have never felt true love from both of them, and oftentimes, I can only do the relating with my brother, Ryan.”   
  
Silence ensues. They don’t know what to make of Kory’s big bomb—with the exception of Rachel, who snorts loudly a few moments after Kory’s ‘announcement’.   
  
“That’s rich,” Rachel drones.    
  
“What do you—”   
  
“You’re just feeling sorry for yourself,” Garfield chimes in.   
  
“Well, I believe that we should be the first ones who do the feeling sorry for ourselves since no one else will,” Kory explains.   
  
Victor chuckles, pouting his lips mockingly. “Cry me a damn river, Kory.”   
  
“I am afraid I do not understand.”   
  
Before Victor can elaborate, his name gets called by Richard. “What?”   
  
“You get along with your family?” Richard asks, standing up from his position.   
  
Victor pushes himself off the railing, glaring at him. “Let me guess, I’m an idiot if I say ‘yes’, right?”   
  
“You’re an idiot anyway,” Richard says, smirking, “but if you say you do get along with them, you’re a liar as well.”   
  
Victor approaches him, putting his hands on his chest when he gets close enough and pushing him backwards. “I swear to God Almighty that if we weren’t on school property, you’d be dead by now.”   
  
“I’d still sue you.”   
  
Garfield stands up from his seat, pushing himself in between the two boys. “Look, dudes, we’ve had enough of—”   
  
Victor easily pushes Garfield aside with a nudge. “This is none of your business, man.”   
  
“I don’t like my foster parents either,” Garfield states. “They’re not particularly  _ fun  _ to be with, and Steve’s just low-key crazy sometimes, y’know?”   
  
Richard spits, “Look... _ dork... _ ”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“You’re basically a parents’ wet dream, get it?”   
  
Gar immediately shakes his head, obviously disagreeing. “You’re wrong.”   
  
“They’re obviously not perfect for making you wear cheap clothes, but—”   
  
“They’re vegan.”   
  
Richard scowls. “What?”   
  
“My clothes are vegan. They’re good for the environment and—”   
  
“Oh, God, he’s an animal freak too!” Richard laughs cruelly.   
  
Victor steps in, his glare worse than before. “Why do you have to keep insulting us?”   
  
“It’s called being honest,” Richard snootily drawls. “Truthful. Sincere. Candid. Of course,  _ you  _ wouldn’t know the difference.”   
  
“Yeah, well, he’s got a name!” Victor exclaims, referring to Gar.   
  
Richard pretends to look shocked. “Really?”   
  
Victor turns to Gar. “What’s your name?”   
  
“Garfield Mark Logan, at your service!” He gives a toothy grin.   
  
Kory chooses this moment to ask the other girl in the room the same question, “What is  _ your  _ name?”   
  
Everybody turns towards them.    
  
She sighs. “Rachel.”   
  
Garfield ends up laughing. “Rae-chel?”   
  
“You got a problem with that?”   
  
“Rachel sounds like a blonde soccer mom filled with wine and regret.” He laughs some more. “It doesn’t exactly scream ‘depressed girl with black clothes’.”   
  
“At least I’m not a fat, orange cat,” Rachel quips.   
  
Garfield’s expression sours instantly. “He’s not fat. I’m not fat.”   
  
“You’re still a pussy,” Rachel says, not letting him have the last word.   
  
“Hey, Anders,” Dick suddenly calls out.   
  
“Yes?”   
  
“Are you a virgin?”   
  
Kory gasps a shocked gasp, her eyes seemingly burning a bright green as she stomps towards Richard. She proceeds to whack him in the head several times. “I will not take this unbelievable, obscene inquiry from you, Richard Grayson. I have shown you nothing but the respect ever since we have met, and I fully expect you to lend the same kindness to me!”   
  
She finishes Richard off with a not-so-subtle kick in the shin even after he’s down. She walks away, her posture as perfect as ever and her makeup untouched.    
  
Victor laughs at the pathetic sight on the floor that is Richard Grayson. “She totally got you, man.”   
  
Richard scoffs it off, pushing himself off the ground and standing up with Garfield’s help. “I don’t fight girls.”   
  
Their attention is veered away by the janitor who enters the library without so much a knock.    
  
“Hey, Garfield, how you doin’?” the janitor, Arthur Light, greets.    
  
Victor chuckles. “Is that your dad?”   
  
Garfield rolls his eyes but smiles in good nature. “Hey, Arthur.”   
  
“Arthur?” Richard calls out after a while.    
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“How does one become a janitor?” he asks.   
  
“You wanna be a janitor?”   
  
Richard snorts. “No.”   
  
Arthur nods understandably, a tight smile making its way to his lips. “I know you kids probably think I’m a plebeian of sorts, but what you guys don’t know is that people like me are the foundation of big places like this. You think this building will still stand if it weren’t for me? No. You lot wouldn’t last a week without me so you better watch your tone, Grayson.”

**. . .**

Wilson enters the room once again; everybody is back in their seats.   
  
“You have thirty minutes for lunch,” he tells them.   
  
Victor blanched. “Here?”   
  
The principal nods. “Yes, here, Stone.”   
  
“Well, I think the cafeteria is a far more suitable place to have lunch, sir,” Garfield pipes up.   
  
“Mr. Wilson!” Kory raises her hand, lowering it when she has the principal’s attention. “Will beverage be made available to us?”   
  
Victor nods. “We are extremely thirsty, sir.”   
  
“I have a very low tolerance for dehydration!” Kory announces.   
  
Victor begins to look sick. “I can attest to that, sir.”   
  
Grayson begins to stand up. “I can get the drinks, sir.”   
  
“No!” Slade says sternly. “Not you, Grayson.”   
  
“Logan, step up,” he commands, looking around the students. He settles for the lone girl in the back. “...And her—what’s your name?”   
  
“Rachel Roth,” she replies.   
  
“There’s a soft drink machine in the teacher’s lounge. Let’s go!”   
  
Rachel and Garfield follow the principal to the said lounge before getting abandoned by him in the hallway.    
  
“So, what’s your poison?” asks Garfield, scratching his head awkwardly as they stop in front of the soda machine.    
  
She stares at him intently. “Cyanide.”   
  
The green-haired boy laughs her odd response off. “I meant, what do you drink, but I know a joke for that!    
  
Rachel rolls her eyes. “Look, Gar, maybe we should just get their drinks—”   
  
“Okay, here it goes: A lady walked into a pharmacy and told the pharmacist that she needed some cyanide. The pharmacist said, 'Why in the world do you need cyanide?' The lady then explained she needed it to poison her husband. The pharmacist's eyes got big and he said, 'Lord, have mercy! I can't give you cyanide to kill your husband! That's against the law! I'll lose my license, they'll throw both of us in jail, and all kinds of bad things will happen! Absolutely not! You cannot have any cyanide!' The lady reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of her husband in bed with the pharmacist's wife. The pharmacist looked at the picture and replied, 'Well, now. You didn't tell me you had a prescription.'” After telling his horrendous joke, Garfield bursts out laughing. Again.   
  
When he doesn’t stop laughing after the third minute, Rachel feels a vein pulsing in annoyance. “It’s not  _ that  _ funny.”   
  
Garfield wipes tears from his eyes, still chuckling a bit. “I thought you’d like something dark like that.”   
  
“Cyanide purchase is restricted.”   
  
Gar pouts, laughter all gone from his system. For now. “That kills the joke.”   
  
“It was never funny, to begin with.”   
  
“Sure it is! You just need to take back your emotions from the witch who stole it.”   
  
“I  _ have  _ emotions.”   
  
“I meant  _ positive  _ emotions—you know, including some semblance of happiness.”   
  
Rachel begins to use the soda machine. Gar continues to talk. She looks like she’s sick of him.     
  
“How’d you end up here?” Gar questions, leaning against the wall beside the soda machine.   
  
“Ditched class,” Rachel responds quickly. “You?”   
  
Garfield shrugs. “Some incident with a teacher in class. Not that interesting—though, what happened before it is very funny. Would you like to hear it?”   
  
“No.”   
  
“Whatever,” he mumbles as they begin their walk back to the library. “By the way, I totally don’t believe you.”   
  
“Should I care?”   
  
“You’re a terrible liar,” he mentions. “You got a lot of tells—words rushing out, darting eyes, and pursing lips. You should take care of that.”   
  
Rachel slows her tracks, narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously. “I will.”

**. . .**

“Anders, d’you wanna see a picture of a guy’s junk with syphilis?”   
  
“No, thank you.”   
  
“How many girls do you think he infected?”   
  
“Please refrain from conversing with me in the matters of sexually-transmitted diseases, Richard.”   
  
Victor rolls his eyes at their antics. “Leave the girl alone, Dick.”   
  
Kory clutches her phone to her chest. “Ooh, I do wish to be doing the ‘hanging out’ with my friends at this moment!”   
  
Richard frowns, a question building up in his brain. “Hey, alien, why do you talk like that?”   
  
“She’s not from here,” Vic answers for her, earning him a glare from the redhead.    
  
“Friend Victor is correct,” Kory verifies. “I am a Princess from a small country called Tamaran. My country has been utterly torn by invaders and war. My family and I, along with other Tamaranean survivors, have moved here, to Jump City, when I was ten years of age. My  _ k’norfka _ —or guardian in your language—has been indulging me and my siblings with his care ever since my parents have decided to go back to Tamaran. I speak this way because American English is not my parental tongue.”   
  
“Mother tongue,” Victor corrects.   
  
“Yes.”   
  
“So you’re still technically an alien then?” Dick asks.   
  
Kory nods, smiling. Richard’s lips turn up a bit in response. They sit there in silence, grinning at each other like a bunch of gone-mad teenagers until Kory’s phone makes a noise and she has to break away from his gaze.

**. . .**

Kory takes out her enormous lunch out of a bag. Her food is pulsing, blue, and, to put it mildly, looks alive. And there have to be at least six platters of that kind of food that sits on her desk now. Richard looks on but doesn’t feel hungry at the sight of her food.   
  
“What’s that?” he asks anyway. He is curious and, admittedly, afraid.   
  
“It is the traditional feast prepared for  _ blorthog  _ day!” Kory answers cheerily. “Though, I am not supposed to eat this much as the pageant is merely two weeks away. Would you care to have some, friend Richard?”   
  
Richard takes another glance at the beating tube-like food on her desk, quickly shaking his head. “No, thank you, Kory. I have my own.”   
  
And he does, a delicious salmon prepared by Alfred. He doesn’t think it goes quite well with the can of Coke Garfield and Rachel has brought with them, but he just has to make do.   
  
Victor pulls out a rack of ribs from his bag. How it fit there, they will never know, but the bag shockingly contains more large and meaty meals. A bucket of chicken wings, pork barbecue on sticks, and even a large bottle of hot sauce are taken out from his bag.   
  
Garfield stares in disgust. “Do you know how many animals you’re eating right now?”   
  
Victor takes a delicious bite from a chicken. “Sorry, you saying something?”   
  
“That’s animal abuse and murder, dude.”   
  
“No,” Victor disagrees, “it’s good food.”   
  
“There’s plenty of good food that doesn’t require the slaughtering of helpless cows!” Gar shrieks.   
  
Victor grins at him, his lips dirtied by meat and sauce. “You want some?”   
  
Garfield gags and sets up his own food. Larry has cooked a nice, vegan meal for his lunch today, consisting of sesame tofu and a bowl of vegetables. He also brought some fruits with him to help balance out his diet.    
  
He glances behind him and notices that there’s no food on Rachel’s desk. “Where’s your lunch, Rae?”   
  
“It’s Rachel,” she corrects. “And I don’t eat lunch.”   
  
“Why not?”   
  
“Because I like starving myself.”   
  
“Cool.”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“ _ That’s _ your lunch, Garfield?” Victor cuts in when he notices what Gar is eating. “That looks like my grandma’s lawn.”   
  
Garfield flips him off, shoving the plastic spoon in his mouth.    
  
Richard snorts, also noticing his food. “You’re so bland, Logan. I bet your home life’s just as perfect.”   
  
Victor agrees with him, laughing even if he has food in his mouth.   
  
“Mom and dad are probably scientists with a lot of money but plenty of time for their only son, Garfield,” Richard continues, ignoring Garfield’s glare. “They come home every night with a bedtime story ready for wittle Gar over here.”   
  
“Fuck off, Grayson,” Garfield snarls. “You know nothing about me. I bet Bruce Wayne beats you up all the time. That’s why you’re so messed up in the head.”   
  
They all expect Richard going crazy over Gar’s comment, but to their surprise, he just shrugs and says, “I’d be beating  _ you  _ up if you weren’t so accurate.”

**. . .**

Richard walks out the library doors, the other four following shortly behind him. Kory stands beside him, looking around worriedly. Victor and Garfield are on their trail while Rachel is on the end of the line.   
  
“How are you so certain about the principal’s whereabouts?” Kory asks Richard.   
  
“I  _ don’t  _ know the principal’s whereabouts.”   
  
Kory looks even more worried. “Then, how will you know if he’ll come back to his office?”   
  
“I won’t,” Richard shortly answers, smirking at the redhead’s expression.   
  
“Why are we going to Dick’s locker, anyway?” Victor asks Gar.   
  
He shrugs in response.   
  
“This is so stupid. Why are we doing this? Why are we risking getting caught?”   
  
Gar shrugs again.   
  
“Then why—”   
  
“Shut up, Stone,” Rachel monotones from behind.    
  
Richard comes to a stop and so have the others. They see him open up his locker and pull out a large paper bag.    
  
Victor gawks. “What’s that?”    
  
Richard smirks, gripping the neck of the bottle inside and showing it to the other teenagers.    
  
“Alcohol?” Kory frowns. “We are not of the legal age for alcohol consumption, correct?”   
  
Victor scoffs, crossing his arms. “Don’t tell me you pussies haven’t been drunk before.”   
  
Richard, along with Gar, laughs at his statement. “It’s just beer, Anders.”   
  
“But we will surely get in trouble…” Kory trails off, realizing that the three of them have already walked away. She turns to Rachel. “Do you approve of this?”   
  
Rachel shrugs, turning around to follow the other three. Kory walks, bewildered, behind her. When they catch up, all of them watch in horror as Slade strolls by in the other hallway.    
  
Richard turns back around. “We have to go through the cafeteria.”   
  
“No!” Victor disagrees. “The activities hall.”   
  
Richard stares at him blankly for a moment. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”   
  
“No, you!”   
  
“Whatever.” Richard rolls his eyes. “I’m going.”   
  
They have no other choice but to follow the lone boy to the cafeteria. When they arrive at the entrance of the cafeteria, Richard puts his hand on the doorknob and finds the door locked.   
  
“Shit,” he cusses.   
  
“I told you!” Victor smugly shouts. “I fucking told you, man!”   
  
Kory looks on sadly. “We should have listened to friend Victor.”   
  
They hear the familiar sound of the principal’s footsteps.    
  
Gar squeaks. “We’re dead!”   
  
Victor quickly thinks of something. “No…just me.”   
  
“What?” Gar looks confused.   
  
“Y’all go ahead,” Victor says, looking determined. “Save some shit for me, Dick.”   
  
Richard quickly nods, and the four of them rush to the library, making sure to avoid the hallway they know Wilson is on.   
  
Victor walks calmly to where the principal is, forcing a smile when he’s spotted. “Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson.”   
  
The principal looks utterly enraged, his eyes narrowed into slits and his fists clenched into stones. “What are you doing here, Stone?”   
  
“I am merely examining the beauty that is our—”   
  
Slade reaches for his ear and twists it as hard as he can. Victor yelps in pain. Slade walks him back to the library where the other four are sitting in their respective seats already. Along the way, Wilson has made it his job to berate the teenager.   
  
“You just a dumb athlete, aren’t you, Victor Stone?” Slade hisses in the ear he’s still holding. “You think you’re so tough and strong, but you cower in fear when it’s me that’s right in front of you. You’re not even good at what you’re doing, and you’re afraid that someone else might realize that.”   
  
Victor glowers but says nothing.    
  
“You’re just like that stupid ball you toss around, easily thrown away and replaceable.”    
  
Slade opens the door to the library and shoves Victor inside.    
  
“You ought to think twice before walking out this damn door.”   
  
Then, it slams back closed.   
  
Victor forges a smile at them, walking back to his seat. “So, where’s the good stuff?”   
  
Richard smirks and inclines his head in the direction of the second floor. “Let’s go.”   
  
The three boys swiftly run to the stairs, Rachel trailing behind.    
  
“You coming?” the dark-haired girl asks Kory who refuses to move from her seat.   
  
“I do not think—”   
  
“Suit yourself.” Rachel goes up the stairs.   
  
Kory looks around for a second, realizing that she’s been left alone. With a sigh, she gets up from her seat and reluctantly goes up.

**. . .**

It turns out that the boys have a terrible tolerance for alcohol, and with a few chugs, they are all laughing their asses off, completely red in the face. The girls stare at each other, confused, and then back at them.    
  
“Hey, everyone!” Dick yells. “The Princess is here! Hey, Your Majesty!”   
  
Victor laughs at him, clutching his sides.    
  
“This is what alcohol does to Americans?” Kory asks softly.   
  
Rachel doesn’t answer her, picking up two unopened bottles and handing one to Kory.    
  
“Hey, Rach!” Gar calls out with a drunken wave.    
  
“Hey.”   
  
Kory looks at the bottle she holds in her hand with a strange expression before opening it with a single twist and pouring it down her throat. Rachel looks mildly impressed. The boys stare, open-mouthed.   
  
After she’s done with the bottle, Kory hiccups, reaching her arm out. “More, please!”   
  
The boys laugh simultaneously. Rachel decides to down her own drink to null the sound of their cackling.

**. . .**

“Victor,” Gar calls out, still drunk as hell. “What’s...what’s your favorite animal?”   
  
Victor stares at the ceiling in fascination. “Y’know…this school’s really damn jamestic, you know?”   
  
“Majestic,” Rachel corrects, mumbling. Her eyes are half-hooded, and she looks as though she’s about to pass out any minute.   
  
“My favorite’s all of them!” Gar exclaims, looking joyful for a second before having tears in his eyes. “They’re all so amazing!”   
  
Rachel awkwardly rubs his back as he sobs about the beauty of animals. “There, there...”   
  
“No, I mean, d’you have a middle name?” Richard asks Kory, frowning.   
  
Kory giggles at him, a bit tipsy herself. She answers him in a foreign language. Richard looks even more confused afterwards.   
  
“How ‘bout you, Rae?” Gar sniffs. “Which—what’s your favorite animal?”   
  
Rachel shuts her eyes and tries to think of any animal. She opens them back open when she thinks of, “Ravens.”   
  
“Why?”   
  
“‘Cause they...they have wings and...I want to fly.”   
  
Gar puts his head on her lap, and she automatically runs her fingers over his green hair. “Why d’ya wanna fly?”   
  
“Fly away from my parents,” she admits. “I hate them.”   
  
“Where’d you go?” Garfield mumbles. He sounds like he’s about to fall asleep himself.    
  
“The streets, probably.”   
  
“You’d rather live on the streets than with your parents?” Victor chimes in, pulling out items from Rachel’s large purse. He finds her knife and holds it up, toying with the sharp end. “You’re a sad little girl, aren’t you?”   
  
Rachel nods, her eyes half-closed already.   
  
“Why d’you have a knife?” Gar asks, suddenly jolting awake and sobering up at the sight of the sharp object.    
  
“Because I like hurting myself,” Rachel drones on.   
  
“Why?”   
  
“‘Cause I hate my parents.”   
  
Gar goes silent for a moment before hesitantly asking, “Do you want to talk about it?”   
  
“Not particularly, no.”   
  
“Is it bad?”    
  
Rachel stares at him, her own drowsiness no longer felt. “Yes.”   
  
“Your parents, right?”   
  
Rachel nods, biting her lip to keep the sobs in.    
  
“What do they do?”   
  
She shrugs, glancing away. “Nothing.”   
  
“Nothing?”   
  
“Absolutely nothing,” she clarifies. “I think they hate me—more than I hate them.”   
  
Garfield takes her hand and gives her a sad smile. “I’m sorry.”   
  
Rachel tightens her hold on his hand, staring fascinatedly at their intertwined fingers. “Thanks.”

**. . .**

All five of them are currently sitting on the floor in a circle, playing a ridiculous game of ‘Truth or Dare’.   
  
“What’s the first thing I’d do with a million dollars, huh?” Victor looks up, thinking. “Well, I’d buy some food—”   
  
“That’s boring,” Gar dismisses.   
  
“Well, I’m being genuine!” Victor defends. “Am I supposed to lie and tell y’all I’ll buy a hundred prostitutes?”   
  
They all laugh.   
  
“That would at least be a lot more interesting than buying some food,” Gar points out. “Okay, Dick, spin that bottle.”   
  
Richard does so, the mouth of the bottle directed at Kory and the bottom pointed at Rachel.    
  
Kory claps her hands excitedly. “I wish to tell the truth!”   
  
Rachel smirks, looking pointedly at Richard who mouths her a question. “Are you a virgin?”   
  
“I truly do not understand why are you are so curious about the matters of other people’s sexuality—”   
  
“Just answer the question!” Rachel demands impatiently.   
  
“For the sake of our game, I must,” Kory says, sighing and shutting her eyes closed for dramatics. “No.”   
  
Rachel’s jaw visibly drops, as does everyone else’s. “You’re not a virgin?”   
  
Kory smiles at her. “I am afraid not. In my country, sexuality is not considered taboo, and my betrothed has already taken my—”   
  
“Wow,” Richard whispers. “Innocent pageant girl, huh?”   
  
“Why did you freak out on Dick earlier, though?” Vic asks.   
  
Kory narrows her green eyes at the said boy. “I believe it is because he was only asking me for his own perverted reasons. Am I correct, Richard?”   
  
Richard sheepishly nods. “Sorry.”   
  
“You are forgiven.” Kory suddenly smiles. “How about you, Rachel, has someone broken through your maidenhood?”   
  
Rachel actually blushes. “No.”   
  
Kory nods. “I believe it is an American custom to wait for matrimony, yes?”   
  
“That’s not the reason why for me,” Rachel denies, looking away.   
  
“How about you, friend Victor?”   
  
To their shock, Victor’s blush is much redder than Rachel’s. He smiles, though. “Still untouched, Kory.”   
  
“Garfield?”   
  
“Huh?” He looks up, eyebrows raised in question.    
  
“Have you ever had the intimate intercourse with somebody?”   
  
Garfield stares at the others’ curious gazes. “Er...yeah.”   
  
“I think…” Rachel speaks up. “I think it’s important to do it with someone you at least care about.”   
  
Kory agrees, nodding. Richard suddenly laughs. Everyone turns to him curiously.    
  
“I’m not a virgin,” he clarifies. “I’m just laughing at the weirdness of it all.”   
  
“Well, we’re all a little weird in our own way,” Victor says with a gentle smile.   
  
Kory is curious. “And what is the weird thing about you, friend Victor?”   
  
Rachel studies the black man beside her, concluding that, “He can’t stand criticism—or at least, being talked down to.”   
  
Victor frowns at her but nods. “She’s right. You guys know how I got in here?”   
  
They all shake their heads.   
  
“I...I cheated in my last game,” he confesses, unable to look them in the eye. “Someone almost died because of me—from the other school—broke his legs and all.”   
  
Kory gasps and whispers something in her language.   
  
“The weird thing is, I did it because I was angry,” he continues. “Coach said I wasn’t good enough. Dad told me that I have no future in football—he’s not a very sporty man. He’d rather have me be a doctor than a football player. We’ve been—we’ve been losing the previous games ‘cause of me, so I did something stupid. I just… I wanted to win. I just want all those stupid bashing people to shut up. I wanted to prove to them that I could do it—that I could win a game, that I’m damn good at football—but I’m just...I’m not it, you know?”   
  
Victor wipes his teary eyes with his sleeve. “I plan on quitting the team. I know I won’t be missed, anyway.”   
  
Gar puts a sympathetic hand on Vic’s shoulder. “I can’t stand the truth. My parents—real parents—died when I was younger, and I’ve been in orphanages most of my life until Steve and Rita, my foster parents. Rita’s lovely. She’s really nice, but Steve...he thinks I’m dumb.”   
  
Gar pauses to laugh bitterly; Kory tries to comfort him, “You are not dumb, Garfield.”   
  
He shook his green head. “No, I am. I just don’t like it when others tell me that. I’m failing almost every subject. I’m not good at anything.”   
  
Richard rolls his eyes. “Now you’re just feeling sorry for yourself.”   
  
“Fuck you, Grayson!” Gar shouts. “You don’t get to minimalize others’ pain just because you can buy yours away!”   
  
“I’m just saying.” Dick shrugs. “You’re a damn wimp.”   
  
“You want to know why I’m here?” Garfield seethes.   
  
“Yes,” Dick says, sounding bored.   
  
“I yelled at Ms. Rouge,” Gar states, glaring at the dark-haired boy across from him. “She was assigned to tutor me. She was getting impatient because I can’t memorize the fucking periodic table and she called me a worthless piece of  _ moule à merde _ . So, you know what I did? I called her a dirty  _ poufiasse  _  who fucks Immortus on the daily.”   
  
They all break into laughing fits.    
  
“You know French?” Rachel questions.   
  
“Yeah, my tutor’s the French teacher, Rach,” Gar says without blinking.   
  
They pause, smiling at each other for a small moment before Vic breaks their moment and asks, “God, are we going to be like our parents?”   
  
“Fuck no,” Gar responds.   
  
Kory frowns. “We say that now, but it is...inevitable, yes?”   
  
“What’s inevitable?”   
  
“It is part of the ‘growing up’,” Kory elaborates. “It is...natural.”   
  
Rachel agrees with her. “My brothers say that when you get older, your soul gets darker and sadder.”   
  
“I don’t think your soul can get any darker, Rachel,” Gar jests, a teasing smile playing about his lips.   
  
“What did you do to get in here, Kory?” Richard asks.    
  
“Oh!” Kory beams up. “I believe they said that I was violating the school dressing code.”   
  
Victor laughs. “That’s it?”   
  
“What were you wearing?” Dick asks again.   
  
“A wonderful purple dress with beautiful flower designs,” Kory answers with a grin.   
  
“I guess this school’s pretty stupid, huh?”   
  
Kory frowns but nods all the same. “That is why I did not think I belonged here earlier.”   
  
“Hey,” Gar starts, gaining everyone’s attention. “I was just thinking… It’s a bit weird, but… what’s going to happen to us on Monday? I think of you guys as my friends already and… am I wrong?”   
  
“No,” Kory answers determinedly.   
  
“You mean… are we still going to be friends?” Victor says.    
  
“Yeah,” says Gar.   
  
“You want the truth, man?”   
  
Gar glances down but nods.   
  
“I don’t think so, dude.”   
  
“Someone’s an optimist,” Richard drawls sarcastically.    
  
“Oh, c’mon, Dick… and Kory,” Victor begins. “Are you guys really gon’ be saying hi and making pies with Garfield and Rachel after this? Be honest! If Rach walks up to you on Monday morning, what’re you going to do, Kory? You’re gonna keep on walking with your pretty friends and make fun of her clothes!”   
  
“I would never do such things to a friend!” Kory defends, her eyes glowing green in fury.   
  
“How about if I walk up to you, Vic?” Gar asks apprehensively.   
  
“Same damn thing!”   
  
Richard scoffs. “You’re just an asshole.”   
  
“For telling the truth?”   
  
“No! For knowing how shitty that is to do to someone! If you don’t have the balls to stand up to your friends, then you’re not a real man, after all.”   
  
Victor snorts, refusing to take offence. “Okay, how ‘bout you? Why don’t you take Gar to one of your elite parties up the hills, huh? Or introduce Rachel to your snooty girlfriends? What about me for that matter—what about Kory? What would your friends say if they find you walking her to class on Monday? They’d turn their noses up at her and call her a slut. And you’d probably tell them she’s ‘special’ or some shit like that!”   
  
“Fuck you!” Richard shots back. “You don’t know me—you don’t know my friends!”   
  
Silence reigns over the five of them until Garfield jokes, “I guess I’ll just take Rachel to my own elite parties then.”   
  
Rachel smiles tightly at him. “We’ll be forever, Logan.”   
  
“I just want to tell you guys that I— _ we _ —wouldn’t do that,” Garfield swears. “I love making friends with everybody, dudes.”   
  
“You guys want to know why I’m here?” Rachel asks, trying to lighten the mood up.   
  
Everybody turns to stare at her.    
  
“Mumbo found a gun in my locker,” she explains with a forced smile.    
  
“Why do you have a gun in your locker?” Victor asks worriedly.    
  
“Because I want to kill myself.”   
  
Kory gasps. “Friend Rachel, I—”   
  
“Kidding,” Rachel recants, rolling her eyes, “sort of. It’s because of my dad. He found me in the bathroom last month—I almost overdosed on his sleeping pills, and he got mad. He told me that if I wanted to kill myself, I should do it right next time and gave me the gun.”   
  
Rachel silently weeps in the corner, her head buried in her knees. Her voice comes out as muffled when she continues, “I put it in my locker so my mom wouldn’t find it. I put it there just in case…”   
  
Garfield scratches his head. “I think our dads should go play golf together sometime or something.”   
  
Rachel chuckles, raising her head to thank him with her teary gaze. They all laugh with her.   
  
“You want to know what I did to get in here?” Richard asks, still chuckling. “I beat up my brother, Jason Todd, because I thought he stole my wristwatch. Turns out it was on my nightstand this whole time.”   
  
They laugh harder.    
  
“That is truly awful,” Kory comments, giggling still.

**. . .**

“Hey, Rae?”    
  
“Yes, Gar?”   
  
“Are you going to write that essay?”   
  
“Well, it’s kind of a waste for all of us to write our papers, don’t you think?”   
  
“What?”   
  
“I think we’ll just say the same thing, anyway.”   
  
“Really?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“You’re just saying that because you’re not going to write  _ your  _ essay.”   
  
“That’s true, but aren’t you, like, topping English class?”   
  
“Okay, Logan.” Rachel rolls her eyes. “I’ll write a single essay for all of us.”

  
“Sweet!” Garfield pumps his fists in the air. “Can I kiss you?”   
  
Rachel snaps her head in his direction. “What?”   
  
“I want to kiss you,” Garfield admits, a blush warming up his cheeks.   
  
“Well…” Rachel darts her gaze around the library. “Do it then.”

**. . .**

Dick and Kory are sitting on the railing. Kory is somehow balancing herself as she retouches her makeup, humming happily. Richard is watching her in fascination.    
  
“Can you do me next?” he jests half-heartedly.   
  
“Of course, friend Richard!” Kory agrees, missing his joke. “I do believe the red lipstick would look great on your lips!”   
  
Richard looks horrified, but then, he remembers something. “Earlier, you said you had a betrothed… does that mean you’re getting married?”   
  
Kory nods happily. “Yes, in four years.”   
  
Richard feels his chest ache, and he does not know why. His shoulders slump as the hope he doesn’t know he had diminishes. “Oh.”   
  
“Would you like to dine with me tomorrow evening as is the courting rituals of the Americans?”    
  
Richard is confused. “I thought you were taken.”   
  
“Us Tamaraneans do not partake in monogamous relationships,” she explains as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.   
  
“Oh.”   
  
“So, would you care to dine with me?”   
  
Richard gives her a small smile. “Yeah.”

**. . .**

When they walk out of Malcolm Wheeler-Nicholson Academy at 4 o’clock in the afternoon, all five teenagers release a sigh of relief. They had a better experience than what they initially expected, but everyone is glad to go home. Before they reach the gates, however, Victor Stone has something to say.    
  
“You know what, guys,” he starts, “fuck all that stuff I said in the library. I don’t wanna leave knowing that I’ll never get a chance to talk to y’all again. So, what do you guys say? Let’s say hi to each other on Monday?”   
  
“Even better, let’s have lunch,” Richard suggests with a smirk.   
  
“Don’t get cocky, Dick. I still can’t stand you,” Victor warns with a grin.   
  
“Ditto.”   
  
“I’m glad you guys are at least going to acknowledge us on Monday,” Gar adds in, referring to him and Rachel.    
  
“Yes, indeed!” Kory beams. “We will be the best of friends!”   
  
Rachel fakes a terrified look. “Let’s not get carried away.”   
  
They all share a laugh. Soon enough, the cars that have arrived this morning are outside the gates again. The teenagers say goodbye to one another, knowing that this day would not be the last they speak to each other.   
  
Inside the library, Slade Wilson finds the essay that Rachel wrote. At first, he almost gives in to his anger because there’s only one paper, but when he reads the content, Slade Wilson smiles.   
  
_ Dear Mr. Wilson, _ _   
_ _   
_ _ We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong, but we think you’re insane for making us write an essay about who we think we are. Our perception is different from yours. You see us as you want to see us. We do not control how the whole world judges us.  You believe that we are nothing more than a bunch of spoiled delinquents, but we, ourselves, found out that each of us is a Jock, a Brat, a Clown, an Emo, and a Beauty. Does that answer your question? _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Sincerely, _ _   
_ _ The Local Weirdos. _


End file.
